Air Caught Trespassing

Carpet peeled back

like a thought forgetting its own name.

*

Beneath it,

air caught trespassing.

Years flattened into scent.

A smell with instructions.

*

Flat days sleeping there,

stacked, rehearsed,

wearing the same grooves thin.

Weight applied daily.

Motion postponed.

*

Dust rising deliberately.

Granular, alert,

as if touch had left a fingerprint there

that refused to fade.

*

A room entering a brief error state.

Pressure leaning casually.

Corners with well-developed opinions.

Loose emotions drifting out of sequence,

ownerless.

*

Exposure rearranges the math.

Everything sharpened,

everything altered.

*

Fans cut invisible passageways,

while windows determine orientation

for air learning how to leave.

*

Residue hovers

long enough to state its name

and accept reassignment.

*

Wood waiting below,

uninterested in history,

ready for impact.